


More Than One Way to Catch Your Breath

by catwalksalone



Series: Beyond the Gulag [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Casual Sex, Developing Relationship, Episode Tag, M/M, Post Episode S01E06 Star City 2046, Self-Discovery, Still not quite hate sex, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6127496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalksalone/pseuds/catwalksalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of Star City 2046 Len has some questions for Ray. Turns out that's not all he has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than One Way to Catch Your Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, there's a mention of vomit at the beginning in case that's not your scene. Episode tag for 106 (Star City 2046) and consistent with canon with adjustment for the first fic in the series.

The Waverider dropped out of the timestream with the sickening stomach plunge that Ray had managed to wrangle under control by effectively recatalogging it as Six Flags And Then Some. It seemed his neighbor, Mick, had either skipped that part or didn't play well with rollercoasters because he wrenched off his restraint, bent forward and threw up in a messy splatter between his knees. It smelled of beer, beef and bile.

“Rough trip, buddy?” said Ray, patting Mick gingerly on the back before thinking better of it and taking off his own restraint instead.

“They’re all rough trips,” Mick growled.

“Why don’t you take off and go lie down. Let me handle this one?”

Mick glanced sideways at Ray, frowning. “You’d do that?”

Ray shrugged. “Sure, why not? You seem like you’ve had a day. No need to add this to your list of complaints, you know?”

Mick nodded. “Thanks.” He stood, glancing past Ray to his right. “ _What_?” he snarled, before turning and heading out of the bridge. 

Ray followed his gaze to find Snart staring at Mick’s retreating back with another one of his unreadable expressions. Wouldn’t want to play poker against that guy, Ray thought. He’d be stripped bare in no time at all. He froze, suddenly assaulted by sense memories that set his heart racing and his fingertips prickling. Snart turned back, catching Ray’s eye, lip curling in a sneer. Ray mentally slapped himself hard, hoping that the embarrassment flooding his body was keeping itself well away from his face. He stood, too. 

“Well, I’d better…” he said, indicating the vomit splatter. 

Rip swiveled in his chair. “Right. I think it’s fair to say that in one way or another the majority of us on the ship have had what Mr. Palmer so accurately calls ‘a day’. I suggest we take six hours personal time before we embark on the next stage of our...expedition. Eat, sleep…” he looked at Sara, “pummel things. Whatever you need. Gideon will ensure we are notified of any emergencies.”

“Hey,” Sara started, and then shrugged. “No, that’s fair. Kendra, you wanna spar?”

“You haven’t had enough today?”

“I got some energy to work off. But if you want to sleep then...”

“No, I’ll come. But we eat after, okay?”

“Deal.”

Ray watched them go, Sara bumping Kendra’s shoulder and whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. He took a moment to feel vaguely disappointed that she’d turned him down. It would have been easy and fun to hang out with her and there was little enough of that around these days. He looked over at Jax to see him doing the exact same thing. Ray smiled to himself. Jax was a good kid; he had plenty of time to get his heart ripped out and stomped on yet. Probably it was for the best that things had shaken out the way they did. No way did Ray want to be responsible for taking some of the light out of Jax’s eyes.

“Sleep,” Jax said, dragging his eyes from the empty corridor and stretching his arms wide enough that Professor Stein had to duck to avoid him. “Lots of sleep.”

“Good idea,” Stein agreed. “But I think we should eat a little something first. We have to keep our strength up.”

“You mean I have to keep _my_ strength up.”

“Same thing.” Stein gave Jax a gentle shove between the shoulder blades and they headed off together towards the mess. 

Snart, until now sprawling in his chair, snorted and stood, walking out without saying a word. 

“What’s your plan, Captain?” Ray asked Rip.

“The plan is to plan.” Rip indicated his office.

“You know you have to take care of yourself, too?”

“Trust me, Mr. Palmer. I know what I need to be doing.”

Ray thought that if he calculated the probability of the accuracy of that particular statement it would come down heavily on the side of total bullshit, but he left it alone. The Captain was not the sharing type. Not with him, anyway. He nodded his agreement and then went to get the cleaning equipment. That was the one thing on the ship that everyone knew where to find: their first days aboard had certainly been…eventful.

After cleaning up Mick’s mess, and grateful it was only of the bodily fluids kind, Ray changed into sweats and headed to the Medbay for follow up treatment. The fight in 2046 had aggravated some of his injuries from the beating he’d taken in the gulag, and he could kill two birds with one stone by resting as he was healed. Who knew what would be coming next? He had to be fighting fit. Or at least as fit as he could manage.

Ray lay on the gurney, eyes closed, letting the warmth of Medbay’s healing protocol flow through him. There was a lot to be said for advanced medical technology. Maybe if they got some downtime, he could convince Stein to help him reverse engineer some of the coding to the microtech Medbay used. The applications in 2016 could be- Ray’s thoughts drifted off as he became aware of someone else in the room. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was; the silence was instantly recognizable. They’d been here before in the dark. His heart rate spiked and Ray took a moment to be very grateful that he wasn’t hooked up to a visible monitor.

He opened his eyes. Just inside the door, Snart leaned against the wall looking at Ray through hooded eyelids. His arms were folded across his chest, hips tilted slightly forward, dark clothes blending him into the shadows like he belonged there. Like he owned the darkness and Ray could only visit there, never seeing him clearly. No wonder he'd been completely in control of the situation in the gulag. And Ray was back there again, Snart's mouth on his neck, hand on his cock. Shit. Cursing the predictability of his autonomic nervous system, Ray forced his breathing to stay steady; he didn't intend to lose that game again. It wasn’t fight, flight or freeze, no matter what the _Wikipedia_ article wanted you to believe. It was fight, flight, freeze or fuck. God help him, why would he want to walk straight back into the path of danger? Was it a death wish? Was it sheer stupidity? He’d take a reincarnated Egyptian goddess with a fated lover any day. Or he should. He really, really should.

“Do you need something?” he asked, disproportionately proud of how normal he sounded.

“What was with the clean up before? You think you’re friends now, you and Mick?”

“I was just doing a solid for a teammate. And so what if we are friends? What does that have to do with you?”

“He’s my partner.”

“Your partner, yes. You’re not his mom. You don't get to say who gets invited for a playdate.”

“Not his mom or his dad, but he’s family. Mick doesn’t always make the smartest choices. I have his back. It’s what family does.”

Ray raised himself up on his elbows, shaking his head. “I don’t...Is this...Am I in grade school? Are you asking if I’m planning to steal your best friend because...Well, I don’t know what to do with that.”

Snart pushed himself off the wall. “Of course not,” he scoffed. “But the two of you have seemed awfully pally since he hauled your ass out of the gulag. He doesn’t want the same things you do, Raymond. Be careful.”

“Oh, so now you’re concerned about my health and wellbeing, not Mick’s.”

Snart’s lips tightened. “That’s not what I said.”

“Feels like it.” The adrenalin pumping through his system made Ray reckless. “I found it,” he said. “My suit.”

Snart rolled his eyes. “Obviously. You were just wearing it.”

“No. I mean, yes. But no. After we got out of the gulag.”

“So?”

“So. You must have brought it. I didn't have it before they took me away from y- From my first cell. I didn't have it when they threw me and Mick in the other cell together. You, me and Mick made it out together so the only place it could have come from was you. Everything you say, everything you’ve ever said to me is one version of ‘Palmer, you’re a loser’ after another, but that? You trusted me enough to get it done. To get myself out. Even though I was in rough shape you knew I could make it.”

“Maybe I didn’t care if you got out or not.”

Ray tilted his head. “Maybe. But then why give me the suit? Why risk the tech falling into Russian hands? No. I’ve got my story and I’m sticking with it.” He lay back down, pleased that he’d gotten under Snart’s skin if Snart admitted it or not. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“If it helps you sleep at night.” Snart moved towards the gurney, coming to stand by Ray's side. He scanned Ray’s bare torso. It was not a pretty sight, Ray knew. The bruises stood out in livid colors, thin stripes and thick, perfect round circles rimmed with purple, and perforated scars like someone was asking him to sign his life away on the dotted line. 

“That looks painful.” 

Ray checked his internal Snart Sarcasm Monitor. It was still in the R&D phase, but it seemed as though the absence of a hit was accurate this time. He gave a straight answer. “Medbay fixed the worst of it. I had a couple broken ribs and a clot she had to bust. The rest of it is a mixture of accelerated healing and giving it time. It’s better than it looks, but it still hurts if I breathe too deep.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Do you usually wait for permission?”

“Guess not. Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Take the beating. Mick can handle himself.”

“What, and I can’t?”

Snart shrugged. “Unless the scouting manual has been radically overhauled, I’ve never heard of a badge for withstanding torture. You’re too…”

Ray was irrationally glad that Snart didn’t finish his sentence. For some reason he couldn’t have taken hearing the unspoken ‘nice’ coming from Snart’s mouth. It was one thing to be hated for being rich, that was fair, another to be hated for being smart, that was understandable, but nice? Such a bland word to engender such negative emotion. Since when had kindness become a dirty word?

“I’d do it for anyone.”

Snart shook his head. “Saint Ray, patron of wailing widows and weeping orphans everywhere.”

“What is _with_ you? Why is it so hard to believe that I care about the people around me?”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Raymond. You know as well as I do that your altruism is in name only.”

Ray sat up, glaring at Snart. “I do not know that. I’ve worked my whole life to-”

“Oh, _please_. The whole reason you’re here right now is for your legacy. I saw your face when Hunter told us what a bunch of nobodies we are. You’re not content to do good quietly, everyone has to know all about it. The great Ray Palmer,” Snart flung out an arm. “Name all over his building and all over people’s hearts. That’s what you want isn’t it? You want the fame and the glory and the _respect_ and yet you turn around and act all holier than thou when anyone fails to live up to your perfect standards. In my book that makes you a hypocrite.”

“At least I _try_.” Ray flung back, stung. “I’m not walking around stealing anything that stands still long enough and throwing in the occasional bout of heroism to take everyone’s minds off the fact that I’m at best a career criminal and a worst a murderer.”

Snart’s lips tightened again, curling so slightly at the corners that it could have been a smile or possibly some painful gas. There was no way to tell with him. “You think I’m heroic, huh?”

“That’s not what I said.” Trust Snart to zero in on that and not the barb Ray had tried to land.

“Too late.” Snart folded his arms again. “Can’t take it back now.”

“Screw you.” Ray threw himself back against the gurney, regretting the decision the second his bruising pointed out his error of judgment. He clenched his teeth and reminded himself that punching Snart would only make him feel better in the moment. He didn’t need the fallout and neither did the rest of the team.

“Now, now, what would your five-year-old fanbase say? Oh, I forgot, you don’t have one. That belongs to The Flash.”

“Go away.”

“Want to be alone, huh? Is that because you struck out with Feathers?”

Ray sighed. He’d chosen this life, willingly, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t question why on an hourly basis. “Thanks, Gideon," he said to the ceiling and then, turning back to Snart, "Look, it wasn’t a big deal. She’s cute.”

Snart winced. “Tooth rottingly. For the sake of the dental hygiene of the rest of us it’s a good thing it didn’t work out. No one needs that much sugar.”

There was a small, swelling surge in Ray’s belly, like a fish trying to swim upstream. “Aww, you think I’m sweet.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Too late.” Ray echoed, smiling now, his grin widening as Snart’s expression darkened. “There’s a sweetness in you too, deep down. Deep, deep, deep down. A little grain of sugar that-”

Ray didn’t get a chance to finish as Snart thrust a hand between Ray’s legs, grabbing his crotch and squeezing hard.

“This sweet enough for you?”

Ray’s primitive brain kicked into action, no fight, flight or freezing for him. Go, it told him. It’s go time. He stomped it back down. “What are you-”

Snart let go and moved to the foot of the gurney. Before Ray could react, Snart grabbed his hips and yanked him forward, fingers tucking into the waistband of his sweats and pulling them down and over Ray’s bare feet, His hands sliced between Ray’s knees and shoved his legs apart. They fell, swinging, either side of the bed. Snart bent down and sucked Ray’s soft cock into his mouth, hands spread wide across Ray’s thighs.

“Snart. What the hell? Anyone could come in.”

Snart took his mouth off and Ray’s cock fell back against his pubic bone, already swelling. “Your point is?” He sucked Ray back in. 

Ray’s heart made an attempt to punch through his chest, scraping against his ribcage with an urgent insistence. There was that nausea again, a whole river of salmon this time. Snart’s mouth was hot and wet and his tongue flicked against the sensitive ridge that joined head to shaft and sweet fuck, Ray had exactly no control over how swiftly his blood streamed towards the center of his pleasure, racing to be first, to be part of the sensations that already threatened to overwhelm him. Anyone could walk in, see this happening, but here was the thing--the really, really amazing thing--so could Ray. This time he could see everything that was going on: Snart bent over Ray’s body, hands sliding off his thighs to grip the sides of the gurney, knuckles white, his cheeks hollowed around Ray’s swelling cock.

Ray breathed in a sharp, deep breath. That was a mistake. “Ow.”

Snart raised his eyes, looking up along the length of Ray’s torso, eyebrows drawn. Ray shook his head.

“My bad. My bruises. It’s okay. Please...please continue?” He dropped his head back on the pillow, giving himself a mental kick. Was there ever going to be a time when he didn’t come off as a total dork to this guy? What would it take? It shouldn’t matter, not with everything Snart was, but it still did. It still _did_. Maybe Snart was right about more things than Ray would like to admit.

Ray felt Snart’s weight shift as he brought a hand between Ray’s legs, dragging his fingernails up Ray’s inner thigh. Ray hissed in a breath, keeping it shallow. He panted in and out as Snart repeated the motion over and over, each time shooting spikes of pleasure straight into his groin until he was dizzy with it. 

“Stop. I need…”

Snart paused, wrapping his hand around the base of Ray’s cock. He licked the tip and looked up. “What?”

“Oxygen,” said Ray, flinging an arm across his forehead and closing his eyes, white lights sparking behind his eyelids. “I need to breathe. Fuck. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Better than giving birth.”

“ _What_?”

“The breathing. Hee hee, ha ha. Very Lamaze or whatever.”

“How do you-? You know what? I don’t care.” Ray breathed in and out, slow and measured, the dizziness receding as the lights faded. He flapped his fingers. “You can, you know, carry on.”

“How gracious.” But no matter how heavy Snart smeared on the sarcasm--no monitor needed for this one--he still put his mouth back on Ray’s cock, at the same time jacking him steadily with a firm hand. Ray flicked the monitor clip off the end of his finger. Who needed a healing protocol when you had healing hands like this?

He lay paralyzed, too afraid to breathe: deep hurt, shallow only led to potential blackouts. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted to come right now. He wanted Snart to do whatever the hell he wanted and--oh, fuck, oh _fuck_ \--he wanted a _badge_. He wanted Snart to look at him and tell him for once, just for once, that he’d done good. Jesus. Maybe he was the kid in grade school he’d accused Snart of being earlier. Good boy, Raymond. Good boy. Fuck. His ribs strained, throat closed tight, chest raw and aching. 

He felt a sharp pressure just below his sternum and took a breath in automatic response, gasping for air. He opened his eyes to find Snart staring at him, eyebrows raised, blue eyes glittering with something that Ray chose to interpret as mild amusement, that being the best of any possible alternatives. The hand on his abdomen tapped one, two, three, four, pause, four, three, two one. He nodded. Got it. Breathing was good. He followed the rhythm Snart had set and refocused his attention. Ray hadn’t thought it was possible to fuck up receiving a blowjob, but apparently there were new avenues of failure he hadn’t yet investigated. So much for his badge.

It took only one subtle twist of Snart’s tongue to drag him back, cock straining as if it could find its own way down Snart’s throat if only he’d let it. His hands twitched, too wary to take Snart’s head and shove it down, shove it down so that he swallowed Ray, taking him in, taking everything Ray had to give. Ray shuddered, his legs hanging from the gurney suddenly dead weight, eyes blinking rapidly, his natural instinct to close them fighting with his desire to watch the exact second when Snart led him past the edge. It was so close now, Ray could taste it in the air, a sweet tang that brought his tongue out to flick over dry lips. It bumped over a healing scar. Snart’s tongue moved too, flickering in short, sharp movements. His hand slid from Ray’s cock, one finger pressing into the strip of flesh behind Ray’s balls, rubbing in slow strokes. It was all Ray needed and he came, watching the surprise in Snart’s eyes transform immediately into something else, something darker. 

Without warning, Snart pulled off and moved swiftly to the head of the gurney, leaning over and pressing down on the scar on Ray’s lip, the unexpected pain forcing him to open his mouth. Bringing their lips almost close enough to kiss, Snart spat Ray’s come into his mouth. He stood up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Bittersweet, Raymond,” he drawled. “What’s best in chocolate and poison.” 

Ray swallowed reflexively, close to gagging, but managed to choke it down. Pass. Good boy, Raymond. Maybe you can design your own badge later.

Snart stalked out of Medbay without another word. Ray stared after him, scrambling off the gurney to grab his sweats and pull them on. What the hell had just happened? _Why_ had it? Was this just how they did things now, he and Snart? They fought and Snart proved his superiority through sexual menacing? Could it be sexual menace if Ray liked it? Like, really, really liked it, even if Snart came exactly last on Ray's list of preferred shipmate drinking buddies and likely vice versa? Did it mean anything that what happened in the gulag had moved to the Waverider? What were the rules? Were there even any rules at all? Was Ray going to lose it before he had answers to any of his thousand questions? At the rate his head was spinning the answer to that was almost definitely. Yay for small victories, Ray thought. One answer down, infinity minus one to go.

“Your heart rate is elevated,” said Gideon into the air.

Ray blinked, frozen for a second. He’d forgotten they hadn’t been alone. They never were truly alone when on board. He shook his head and tossed his fear of discovery right into the incinerator and watched it catch and burn. “Go figure.”

“I calculate that-”

“It was- Look, it doesn’t matter. Gideon?”

“Yes, Ray?”

“Wipe the recordings from after my initial treatment today.”

“You are not authorized to make that request.”

Ray sat back on the gurney, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know. But as a favor to me?”

“Would you say that you have had ‘a day’?”

Ray couldn’t help but grin at the unspoken quotes he heard in Gideon’s voice. “You could say that.”

“Then I shall do as you ask. The recordings have been wiped.”

“Thanks, Gideon, you’re a pal.”

“You are welcome, Ray. Do you wish me to administer some medication that will assist in you also forgetting the incident?”

“No!” said Ray more fiercely than he’d expected. “No,” he repeated, gently this time. “But thanks for offering. I’m glad you’ve got my back.”

“It is my job to have all of your backs. Shall I tell you what Leonard is doing at this moment?”

“No. Yes. Ugh, no.” Ray knocked his head off his knees. “You shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.” Gideon was a sweetheart, he decided. Maybe back in 2016 he'd get started on that AI he'd been mulling over for years. He'd add it to yet another one of his lists.

“So you wouldn’t want me to tell you he is standing some twenty feet away from this room and hasn’t moved for the duration of our conversation?”

“No, I- He hasn’t?”

“He has not.”

“Oh.” Ray’s shoulders sagged. “That’s- Thanks.”  
Well then, this whole thing, whatever it was, might be seven shades of messed up, but knowing that Snart wasn’t breezing through it on twisted caprice and deliberate goading made Ray breathe easier. Maybe something else would happen between them, maybe their weirdass lives would throw up too many obstructions, maybe they’d learn how to be kind to each other in different ways, maybe--and this was probably most likely--they’d kill each other. Whatever happened, though, it wouldn’t be meaningless. As much as Snart would like him to believe it, Ray knew that in this, at least, he wasn’t on his own in the dark.


End file.
